


Not So Unrequited After All

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Parentlock, I'll add characters as I write, M/M, Mary Ships It, Mary is awesome, Mary/John is so minor srsly, Molly has no luck with men, Mrs. Hudson Ships It, The & means friendship I think, They both think it's unrequited but they're both WRONG, but NOOOOO, he's gotta be all oblivious, headcanon: sherlock knows molly's new BF is get bc they did the sex, mature for language, no smut sorry guys I don't trust my smut writing skills, pretty far off in the future doh, so mary and mrs hudson have to knock their heads on right, srsly all of her BFs are gay, yes their eventual child will be named Hamish, you'd think Sherlock'd use his fancy detective brain to figure that out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary loved John, really, but it had become obvious to her that she stood in the way of a more epic romance that she would gladly step down for.<br/>Now if only John could come to realize that himself.</p><p>WIP<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if Mary's out of character, we haven't really seen much of her, so I don't have much to go on. My first impression was that she seemed pretty cool and suspicious of romanticyness between John and Sherlock, like "ooooh these guys liiiiiike each other *giggles*" suspicious, not jealous suspicious, so anyway forgive me if it turns out this is way out of character.
> 
> Blah blah don't own Sherlock or the blah blah you guys know the whole shpiel. xD
> 
> Attempting to update every Thursday night by midnight TX time, but sometimes I'm a day late/early

Mary knew, of course. She wasn’t stupid.  
She could see how he reacted with the grief of a widower when his (assumed) deceased friend was mentioned. She could see how passionately angry he was when that (assumed) deceased friend came back, interrupting his proposal with a mustache drawn on with eyeliner and a bottle of champagne. Angry passion that could only be found in matters of the heart far more intimate than those in regards to a friend.  
Three times. There may have even been more if he hadn’t gotten fed up with Sherlock and called a cab to take himself and Mary home. John had assaulted Sherlock three times in unadulterated, passionate rage. Mary could have sworn they were going to kiss at some point, for such strong feelings were easily blurred, so it seemed obvious that the rage had blurred from John’s original love for his dear friend. Mary liked Sherlock, and she liked John. She loved John, really, but it had become obvious to her that she stood in the way of a more epic romance that she would gladly step down for.  
Now if only John could come to realize that himself.

John hated leaving Mary alone with Mrs. Hudson.  
John loved Mrs. Hudson, of course, he was like a second mother to him. She did, however, have certain notions of the nature of John and Sherlock’s earlier relationship that were simply not true! No matter how often John tried to inform Mrs. Hudson that he wasn’t gay, and had never been in a relationship with Sherlock, she’d just shake her head.  
“M’thinks the lady doth protest too much,” she’d say, smiling teasingly. John would sigh exasperatedly or continue to argue, depending on how long the conversation had gone on, but Mrs. Hudson couldn’t be convinced. John hated talking about it with Mrs. Hudson, because it only made him sad. John had admitted to himself a long time ago that he’d fallen in love with his dear friend, but had shoved it down to avoid conflict and rejection. When Mrs. Hudson brought it up it would only make him mourn what could never be. Mrs. Hudson kept at her prodding, however, and would tell Mary her theories like they were fact, leaving John to explain the truth of what happened in Mrs. Hudson’s stories, rather melancholically, when Mary went home. Mary would often spend her free time with Mrs. Hudson when John was out chasing murderers and the like with Sherlock, having found the old woman delightful the first time they’d properly met.  
“She tells the most entertaining stories!” Mary would gush, and continue to tell John of how so-and-so did such-and-such to so-and-so, and how “they never actually found the banana, in the end! It was all for nothing!”. John had to admit the stories Mary would bring home were often entertaining, but they weren’t worth Mary coming home with tales of John and Sherlock from the view of Mrs. Hudson.  
“We weren’t ever dating!” John would exclaim sorrowfully, and Mary would just giggle at him. John would give her a questioning look, to which she’d reply, “But the whole thing happened?”, and John would say yes, it had happened, and Mary would giggle again and ask him if he was sure they were never dating. It was odd how Mary would prod at him, attempting to reveal some sort of feelings for Sherlock. John wouldn’t give in, however the circumstances seemed. He couldn’t do that to Mary, all to admit his undoubtedly unreciprocated feelings. He’d rather be married to his friend, because John was positive his love was unrequited. So John shoved down his feelings and cringed whenever anyone hinted at them, because it caused him a sort of pain that, in John’s mind, never had a chance at remedy.

Sherlock was in love with John Watson.  
He’d never speak of it, however. John was getting married to the love of his life and didn’t need such drama. As John had reinforced many times, he wasn’t gay, and therefore Sherlock’s love must have been unrequited. He was getting married, and to a woman at that, after all! He didn’t need some pining high-functioning sociopath hanging around! What John needed was a high-functioning and sociopathic best friend. So Sherlock swallowed his feelings and forced a smile. He pretended it wasn’t mourning for a relationship that had never happened that he felt, but happiness for a best friend who was getting married. To an excellent woman, too. Sherlock absolutely loved Mary Morstan. She was clever and witty, only making Sherlock ache harder. If his friend’s fiancee had been a terrible woman, than maybe Sherlock would have been able to break them up without feeling terrible about it. He could confess his feelings without feeling like a homewrecker. Unfortunately for Sherlock, Mary was excellent, and he could not bring himself to honesty and jeopardize Mary and John’s relationship. Not only that, but the inevitable unrequited nature of Sherlock’s love for John stood in Sherlock’s path to telling the truth. So Sherlock resigned himself to bottling up his feelings and suffering through, plastering on a happy face for his beloved friend and his soon-to-be bride. 

Mrs. Hudson just wants her boys to be happy.  
She can see the pain in both of her faces, and just wants to make it better. After slipping it into conversation with Mary, she found that Mary saw it too.  
“I really just want John to be happy, and he’s obviously more happy with Sherlock.” Mary would say, despondent, “I realize John doesn’t want to break my heart, so he won’t break off our engagement. I don’t know how to tell John I understand, and I just want him to be happy, without having him continue denying it.” Mrs. Hudson and Mary would talk a while, and eventually decided to work together to get John and Sherlock to admit their feelings. Mary talked John into pushing the wedding back to November, fabricating a tale of family traditions and winter themes. They decided that if, in the ten months until November, the two men didn’t come to terms, then Mary would confront John. To avoid spending for a wedding that would never happen, Mary told John that she wanted control over every detail of the wedding, and that all he would have to do would be show up. John happily agreed, not wanting to have to face his upcoming nuptials to Mary until the last possible moment. He was already overjoyed by Mary’s request to push the wedding back, and relinquishing any control only made him happier.  
So Mrs. Hudson and Mary got to work planning a wedding that would never happen, and John and Sherlock secretly pined for each other, and Molly Hooper’s new boyfriend was gay, and all began to fall into place.


	2. Chapter One

Molly's new boyfriend was gay. Sherlock knew that for sure, with no question. It wasn't from the way he dressed or the way he spoke and acted, though that told Sherlock of his sexuality as well, but rather Sherlock's personal experience with the man. Sherlock generally shied away from social interaction with other people, especially before meeting John, but he was a man. A man with needs, no matter how much Sherlock attempted to deny it. So every so often he would go out and find some random guy to fulfill those needs he liked to pretend he didn't have, oftentimes when John himself was out with whatever girl he'd picked up most recently.  
On one of these nights, not all too long before Sherlock had faked his death, Sherlock had hooked up with Molly's now-new boyfriend. Sherlock decided against saying anything to Molly, however, wishing not to be cruel as he had when Jim had been posing as her boyfriend. Molly had been upset then, and John upset with Sherlock for making her upset. Sherlock preferred not having John upset with him. Sherlock loved John, no matter how much he attempted to hide it, and couldn’t bare John’s anger.  
“That was interesting.” John stated uneasily, making his way back up to his and Sherlock’s flat after speaking to the reporters about the bomb in the subway carriage. Mary had insisted John move back in with Sherlock after his return. He and Mary planned to still meet up for dinner often, and coffee in between. John didn’t want to be, but he was grateful for it, and after getting over his initial anger, he was immensely glad to have his friend back, and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.  
“Yes. Quite,” Sherlock said, pausing for a moment, “Should I tell Molly-”  
“No. Absolutely not.” John cut Sherlock off, having expected the abrupt change in the conversation. He knew Sherlock had been itching to bring it up.  
“You don’t even know for sure. He could be… I dunno, metrosexual or something.” John elaborated, and Sherlock snorted.  
“I do know for sure, John, I’ve had sex with him.” Sherlock deadpanned, and John stopped in the middle of the stairs.  
“You’ve… What? You’re- You have-” John shook his head, “Are you sure it’s the same guy?” John stuttered out, already knowing the answer. Sherlock never forgot a face.  
“Yes, I’m sure. And I’m not a virgin, John, don’t be absurd. I went to college.” Sherlock grinned mirthfully. John sputtered a bit, before continuing his questioning.  
“How recently was this?” John asked, fearing for Molly’s sake. It would quite awful telling her that her boyfriend had cheated on her with Sherlock.  
“Before I faked my death, so don’t worry. If he’s cheated on Molly, it wasn’t with me. It was with some other man. Because he’s gay.” Sherlock responded, and John laughed a little.  
“I don’t think that poor girl’s ever had a straight boyfriend.” John said pityingly, and Sherlock chuckled.  
“No, I believe you’re right.” Sherlock laughed, and the two men continued up to the door. Reentering the room to his friends (and Molly’s newest gay boyfriend), John began to really process what Sherlock had said. ‘Wait, so… Sherlock’s gay. Sherlock likes men. There’s a real chance of Sherlock reciprocating my- no, no, no, I couldn’t do that to Molly. Besides, Sherlock is… Sherlock. He’s probably above dating. Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he likes-’  
“John?” Mary called, drawing John out of his thoughts. John started.  
“Sorry, dear, must’ve zoned out for a bit. What was that?” John chuckled, trying to make light of his odd behavior. Mary gave him a worried look, before repeating herself.  
“I said that I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow, John.” Mary said, smiling kindly and kissing John chastely.  
“Yes, um, see you tomorrow.” John replied after Mary pulled away. He came to the realization that returning to 221B meant he wouldn’t have sex with Mary quite as often, but he couldn’t really bring himself to mourn the loss. To John, being able to spend time with Sherlock as they once had was more valuable than regular sex with Mary. He couldn’t help but wish he had a friendship rather than an engagement with Mary once more. He couldn’t bare to lose Mary, but he oftentimes found himself wanting to be with Sherlock more than Mary.  
John looked around to see that Molly and her boyfriend had left as well, leaving Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson along with John himself. John shook himself slightly, wondering if he had fallen asleep and missed everyone’s leaving. As if reading his mind, Mrs. Hudson confirmed this, saying he’d seemed to have taken a nap for a little bit, and was he alright? John just shrugged her off with a tired smile, saying he was exhausted and really just needed a good night’s rest. He hadn’t really been able to get one after Sherlock had faked his death, and in the midst of all of the drama he was once again sleep deprived. Now that Sherlock was back and the crisis averted, John was positive he’d be able to sleep well for the first time in the past two years. Mrs. Hudson shooed him off to bed.  
“Goodnight, John,” Sherlock called, and John replied, “Goodnight, Sherlock,” before heading into his room, stripping down to his boxers, and hopping into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.  
\--  
John didn’t remember what he’d dreamt of, but he knew it wasn’t a nightmare. He woke up refreshed and alert, confirming his suspicions that having Sherlock around again helped his sleep. Allowing his mind to wander for a bit, he wondered how much better he’d sleep with Sherlock in the same bed as him. Or better yet, after sleeping with Sherlock…  
“John! We’ve got a case!” Sherlock shouted, bursting into John’s room and interrupting his thoughts and causing his cheeks to heat up.  
“Alright then, what is it?” John asked expectantly.  
“Triple homicide. Time of death marks them at exactly the same time, and they were all found…” Sherlock filled John in on the case as he rifled through John’s drawers, throwing pants, trousers and a jumper at him. Taking the hint, John rose and pulled on his pants and trousers quickly with his back to Sherlock, before turning back around to face him for putting on his jumper. Purely so he could hear better, of course, no alternative motives involved. ‘I’m a horrible person…’ thought John, lamenting the romantic nature of relationship with Mary.  
“...and the best thing is,” Sherlock continued, and John started to pull his pyjama shirt off, “Um, is that, um,” Sherlock began to stutter, eyes trailing down John’s chest.  
“Is what, Sherlock?” John asked, head stuck in his pyjama shirt. He hadn’t unbuttoned the top button, and it was currently hindering him.  
“Um, the, the um, the bodies, they all, um,” Sherlock attempted to refocus and get his point across before John realized what was hindering Sherlock. Luckily for Sherlock, John finally gave up with struggling with getting his pyjama shirt off of his head. He pulled it back down and unbuttoned the top button, allowing him to swiftly pull it off and pull his jumper on just as fast. Shaking his head, Sherlock recalibrated himself and continued to tell John what was so interesting about this case. John, glad to not have to go to work in the clinic that day, quickly brushed his teeth and went through a rather rushed version of his morning routine, before being handing a piece of toast with jam and hurried out the door by Sherlock.  
Catching a cab down to the crime scene, they were met by Greg Lestrade, who filled them in on what they’d discovered since Sherlock had been called. Sherlock then proceeded to make the entire New Scotland Yard look like an imbecilic team of monkeys, pointing out a billion different things they’d missed. Donovan had called him ‘Freak’ at least twice, which bugged John to no end, and all was normal. John couldn’t have been happier, which one could call a bit odd seeing as how he was at the crime scene of one of three homicides, but John’s life had been a bit odd ever since he’d met Sherlock Holmes. ‘Bugger odd,’ John thought, ‘It’s bloody extraordinary!’ John wouldn’t trade his life with Sherlock for the world. Which of course brought him back to Mary, and suddenly felt very guilty that he hadn’t called her that morning or even really given her a thought. John recognized that he’d very soon have to trade his life with Sherlock for one with Mary, and sighed sadly at the thought. He couldn’t dwell on it for long, however, for Sherlock soon pulled him over to the corpse to have him deduce what he could.  
\--  
“Honestly, Mrs. Hudson, I just don’t know what to do! I know he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, but it’s getting a little bit ridiculous.” Mary sighed into her tea, and Mrs. Hudson nodded sympathetically.  
“We had sex like, two nights after Sherlock’s return. I heard him say ‘Sherlock’ at least twice, maybe more. Keep in mind John as still mad at him, too. I don’t think I could take sex with him, now that they’re back together and pining after each other once again! If it’s only twice when he’s mad at the man, how many times when he’s not? I feel like I’m the other woman!” Mary chuckled, “Honestly, maybe I should have sex with him again soon just so I can bring it up!”  
“What would you even say?” Mrs. Hudson said, and spoke again in her best impression of Mary, “Ehm, John, dear,”  
“Spot on impression, Mrs. Hudson,” Mary interrupted, smiling.  
“Listen, John,” Mrs. Hudson continued her impression, “I know you like to say that you’re straight and not interested in Sherlock, but I think all I heard was Sherlock’s name in that last round. I don’t believe you’re being quite honest with yourself!” Mary laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair, Mrs. Hudson along with her.  
“I dunno, is it bad we’re talking about setting my fiancee up with his flatmate? Maybe I should just break up with him.” Mary said, twisting her face with pity.  
“No, love, you’ve got to let him do it himself. If you break up with him, you’ve got to give him a reason. The reason’d have to be the truth, or a lie. You tell him the truth and he pushes hard against it, trying to prove to you you’re wrong as all stubborn men do. You tell him a lie and he feels bad about himself and unworthy of Sherlock, or something along those lines.” Mrs. Hudson explained, and Mary nodded.  
“I suppose you’re right, Mrs. Hudson. We really have to figure out how to get them together, though. It needs to be so undeniable that John decides to break it off because it would be better for both of us, rather than feeling as though he’s abandoned me.” Mary said, and she and Mrs. Hudson began discussing various ways to shove their boys together, to make it so that they couldn’t deny their attraction to each other.  
\--  
"Ah, well, female, judging by the pelvis, around 25. Significant wear on the shoulder sockets, suggesting a swimmer. She's been competing either recently or currently, and the wear suggests it's professional," John continued, profiling the victim best he could. He could feel Sherlock's eyes on him the whole time.  
"Excellent, John, you've missed a few things, like how..." Sherlock began pointing out everything else, deducing the most significant things from the tiniest of details.  
"Brilliant." John gushed, as he usually did when Sherlock did what he was good at. Sherlock smirked, pleased to have impressed John. The two men told Lestrade what they'd found, assuring him they would call if they found anything else. Sherlock took a few photos of the crime scene for future reference, and they left.  
Sherlock solved the case in two days.  
"Bored." Sherlock moaned, and John looked up from the tea he was making.  
"What was that?" John asked, not having heard.  
"Bored," Sherlock moaned again, a bit louder this time, drawing out the word longer, "Bored. Bored bored bored bored bored." Sherlock jumped up and off of the couch, creeping up behind John and looking over his shoulder.  
"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, staring at John's hands and the tea he was making. John suppressed a shiver at the sound of Sherlock's baritone voice so close to his ear.  
"What's it look like I'm doing?" John asked somewhat irritably, angry at Sherlock for being so attractive. John knew it wasn't the other man's fault, but he couldn't help it. He attempted to bring his thoughts to Mary, and of how he'd be married soon, which sufficiently quelled the stirring in his pants that had started up. 'That's not a good sign,' John thought, worried that the thought of the woman he was going to marry now did the opposite of what it should. John was uneasily grateful it had the power of doing that, for it would help in unfortunately inevitable similar situations.  
"Making tea. And thinking. What are you thinking about?" Sherlock rumbled, walking back and sliding into a nearby chair exasperatedly, "Entertain me, John, I'm bored." John sighed, a smile playing on his face.  
"Alright, I'll tell you a story." John began, and Sherlock grinned. John told him a story about John and his friends and an incident involving snow cones and his neighbor’s rat terrier.  
“I remember even months after it seemed the little dog’s ear was blue!” John laughed, sitting down on the sofa next to Sherlock with two mugs of tea, and Sherlock let out a deep laugh as well. John handed Sherlock the tea with sugar and kept the one with milk for himself. After a few minutes of silence, Sherlock cleared his throat.  
“Was it fun?” Sherlock asked, not specifying what he was talking about.  
“Was what fun?” John asked, confused.  
“Friends. People, I suppose.” Sherlock sighed.  
“Sometimes. Sometimes it was bloody awful.” John turned to face Sherlock, “You know, like with us. We’re friends, after all. Honestly, you’re my best friend.” Sherlock’s face froze, and John worried the sentiment wasn’t returned. Sherlock’s face suddenly broke into a huge grin that lit up his face, relieving John.  
“You mean… I’m your best friend?” Sherlock asked, amazed.  
“Of course, you bloody idiot,” John laughed, saddened by how surprised Sherlock sounded.  
“Well… You’re my best friend too.” Sherlock smiled softly into his mug, and John chuckled. Turning his thoughts to Mary, John mourned the ever-looming wedding day ahead, wishing there was a way to remain friends with Mary and appease his heart. He knew he wouldn’t be happy without Sherlock.  
\--  
“Mary…” John started, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.  
“Yes, dear?” Mary replied, looking up from her omelette. John’s stomach clenched, and he changed his mind.  
“Um. Nevermind, it’s… it’s not important.” John backpedaled, hoping Mary wouldn’t continue to ask what he’d wanted to say.  
“Are you sure?” Mary asked, intrigued, and John internally groaned.  
“Yes, well, um. Yes, I’m sure.” John’s words stumbled out of his mouth, stunted. Mary let out sharp breath, holding in what she so desperately wanted to say.  
“How was your week, love?” Mary asked, and John launched into the newest adventure of Sherlock and himself. Mary hadn’t seen him for a week, and there had been little contact. At the end of the story, which was full of evidence of John’s love for Sherlock, Mary was fed up. Having had enough of John’s stupidity and refusal to face his feelings, she groaned quite audibly.  
“Did you just groan at me?” John asked, rather shocked at how rude it was. Mary wasn’t normally so rude! Mary sighed. ‘Mrs. Hudson be damned. Sorry, Mrs. Hudson.’ Mary thought, and opened her mouth.  
“John, I think we need to break up.” Mary started, ignoring John’s squeak, “You’re so wonderful and I’d love to always have you in my life, but I don’t think we work as lovers. You’re not in love with me John, you’re in love with Sherlock,” John squeaked indignantly once again, “and that’s alright! I understand, you can’t help who you love. It’s obvious he loves you back! I don’t want to stand in your way to happiness because you refuse to hurt my feelings!” John swallowed audibly.  
"I'm not in love with Sherlock!" John said defensively.  
"You've said his name at least three times during sex. Three times, John! And it's not as though he doesn't like you back!" Mary said, waving her hands to emphasize in an attempt to get John to see what was so blatantly obvious to her and everyone else in the world.  
“He… You think he likes me back?” John said, unable to focus on everything else that had just gone down. Mary thought that Sherlock liked him back.  
Mary groaned, “Of course, you idiot! He just needs some help coming to terms with it. And I’ll help you! I want to be in your life, John, but I think we need to be friends.” John smiled.  
“Yes, yes, thank you. I didn’t… I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, Mary. I didn’t think… I was a coward. I love you Mary, but not…” John trailed off.  
“Not in the same way you love him.” Mary said softly, smiling at John, “I know, John.”  
John and Mary continued their breakfast amicably, making plans to meet up again in the future.  
“I want to help you get your guy, John.” Mary said kindly before they left, pulling John into a hug. John gave her a little half smile.  
“Thanks, Mary,” he said, and they went their separate ways, and John hailed a taxi.  
“221B Baker Street,” John told the taxi driver, and the little half smile remained on his face through the rest of the drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, originally I planned for this to be a get together at the end sorta thing, but then I got hooked on Parentlock, so I'm going for less angst and more fluff and adorable parentyness. Hence Mary and John resolving their thang. Basically John and Sherlock'll be getting together sooner than I'd planned, and then relationshippyness and kids in the somewhat distant future. Yay!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated, they're like my life blood!!! I love my readers!!!


End file.
